


Dissonance and Resolution

by pulpriter



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 21:18:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3870088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pulpriter/pseuds/pulpriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mr. Butler was polishing silver and thinking about the events of the last few days. And about Mrs. Butler.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dissonance and Resolution

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own any of these characters, I just love them.  
> This story assumes some AU/future relationships.  
> Please review and critique.

Mr. Butler was polishing silver and thinking about the events of the last few days. And about Mrs. Butler. 

A few mornings past, Bert and Cec were enjoying tea and toast with Mr. Butler and Dot in the kitchen. Birds were singing to the sun, and all was right with the world. Without warning, the peaceful atmosphere was marred by the sound of voices upstairs—muffled, but steadily growing in volume and in intensity. The crew around the table looked at each other in alarm: they all knew what was coming next.  
Abruptly, the voices ceased. A door opened and closed, and footsteps—one set only--could be heard coming down the steps. Presently, Inspector Robinson appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. He raised an eyebrow and surveyed the room. “Good morning,” he said tersely. The Inspector was not a talkative man, as a rule, and he tended to be even quieter when he was irritated. He shoved his hands in his pockets.  
Bert tipped his hat. “C’mon, Cec, we’d best be off,” he said, slinking toward the door.  
“Right,” said Cec. “We have that...job.” They disappeared into the garden.  
Dot smiled kindly toward the Inspector and said, “Have some tea and toast. I have some mending to see to.” She also disappeared quickly.  
“Traitors,” Jack muttered. “Mr. Butler? Not going to decamp?”  
Mr. Butler looked dolefully at the Inspector, and Jack took pity on him. “Never mind. I’ll take some tea and toast into the parlor, so you can go about your work. Although you can hardly escape hearing us, I suppose.”  
”Yes, sir,” Mr. Butler said, knowing a lifeline when he heard one. He speedily prepared a tray for the Inspector, who carried it down the hall and was placing it on a table in the parlor when Miss Fisher finally came downstairs.  
Angry as she still was, she said, “In here? Where is everyone?”  
“Where do you think? We already announced ourselves.”  
“Weaklings,” she groused.  
They managed a few civil sentences before Mr. Butler heard the argument begin again. Miss Fisher’s well-modulated voice took on a shrill tone, while the Inspector’s went deeper and grittier.  
Mr. Butler was grateful they didn’t throw things. 

Having made their getaway, Bert and Cec made an uncharacteristic stop at the City South Police Station. They walked up to the counter, and Hugh came over immediately. The cabbies were grinning. “Something’s up?” Hugh asked.  
“Your boss and Miss Fisher are at it again,” Bert snickered. “Doubt he’ll be in a good mood when he gets here.”  
Hugh rolled his eyes. “I don’t understand it. Why do they fight like this? Dottie and I don’t.”  
Cec shook his head. “Dottie ain’t Miss Fisher. And the Inspector don’t back down once she gets him started.”  
Bert nodded knowingly, in solidarity with the entire male population. “And he usually has the right of it, too.” All three men nodded.  
At that moment, Inspector Robinson entered the station with a sour look on his face. He scowled at the three men at the counter.  
“Oi! We’re on your side,” Bert said graciously.  
If they had blinked, they would have missed the hint of a smile that passed over Jack’s face. “You can’t say we aren’t entertaining.” He continued on to his office. 

Jack worked diligently all morning. He had just signed off on a case that Collins had handled, and handled well. Jack felt a bit of pride at the way the younger man was honing his skills as an officer. Just as Jack was noticing that it was nearly noon, a familiar figure appeared outside his office door. “Knock knock,” she called out.  
“Come in.” He stood to open the door for her. She peered up at him, questioning her reception at his office, but his ingrained courtesy won out, as usual. She put a familiar basket on his desk. He smiled.  
“I thought I’d bring you something to eat, since I’m convinced you only eat when I feed you,” she accused.  
“I’ll let you go on thinking that if it guarantees Mr. Butler’s cooking will end up on my desk.”  
“And if I also end up on your desk?” She took her customary place.  
“All the better.” Jack closed the door to the office.  
Not more than five minutes went by before Hugh was rolling his eyes at the row starting again. The uproar was mostly kept muffled by the closed door to the Inspector’s office. Suddenly the door opened, and Miss Fisher could be heard to say, “That’s enough. There’s no point in continuing this discussion.” Hugh could hear her heels clicking down the hall.  
From the office, Hugh heard the Inspector say, “Phryne, we are not done with this!” His heavier footsteps came down the hall behind her.  
Miss Fisher’s footsteps stopped. “I couldn’t agree more, we certainly are not done.”  
“It’s nice to know you can agree with me.”  
“Oh! There’s no point in talking to you if you’re going to be so bull-headed!”  
“I? Miss Fisher,” remembering to use her title in public, “you are the most stubborn woman I have ever met!”  
“Well, then, we are a perfect match, because you are the most stubborn man I’ve ever met!” She turned on her heel and headed for the door, and just before she left, she called out, “I certainly hope you’ll be in a better mood after work!” Then she breezed through the door, having had the last word, or so she thought. In truth, after she left, the Inspector had a word to say, himself. It startled Hugh.

Phryne stormed through her front door and stomped up the stairs. Mr. Butler sighed. At least she didn’t throw things. 

In the late afternoon, Dot looked warily at Mr. Butler. “I really need to ask Miss Fisher about an invitation she received. She and the Inspector are in the parlour again. Do you think I’ll get my head bit off?”  
Mr. Butler’s sixth sense was working at full capacity. He had noticed that there had been no loud voices for some time. “I don’t think you’d better go in, Dorothy. But I don’t think they are arguing any longer.”  
“Oh! You mean—“  
“They will probably still want their privacy.” 

The next morning, the usual group was assembled around the kitchen table; none of them could resist seeing what would happen this morning. At the expected time, they heard light steps coming down the stairs, followed by heavier ones. At the landing, both stopped. From his corner, Mr. Butler could see Miss Fisher winding herself around her Inspector. When she came around the corner, she was all smiles. A moment later, the Inspector followed, stuffing a handkerchief into his pocket. He nodded politely to the gathering.  
“Good morning, all!” Miss Fisher sang out. “A full breakfast, please, Mr. Butler.” Jack smiled indulgently at her. Peace was restored. 

 

Later that day, Dot and Hugh were enjoying a few quiet moments over cocoa and biscuits while Mr. Butler cleared away the dishes.  
“I wonder what the row was about, anyway?” Hugh puzzled.  
“I never know,” said Dot. “I never ask.”  
Mr. Butler smiled to himself. Two dominant personalities are bound to clash, he thought. Mrs. Butler used to say that harmonies are all the sweeter after the dissonance is resolved. The Inspector would likely understand that; Mrs. Butler had been a piano player, too. Mr. Butler wondered what his young friends would think if he told them that he and Mrs. Butler used to argue just like the Inspector and Miss Fisher. Oh, the rows! It had been the time of his life. And Mrs. Butler DID throw things.


End file.
